Avengers Stories //Oneshots//

Brothers

The halls of the giant palace in Asgard were quiet in the dark night. The walls of gold shimmered in the moonlight, stars randomly shooting across the skyline. The usual rustle and bustle of royal officials, warriors, healers, servants, and others was absent, most retiring to their beds. One such person was young Thor Odinson. Only eight in Midguardian years, he laid in his bed, snoring loudly. The silk sheets were up to his nose, courtesy of his mother, Lady Frigga. His large room was a mess of clothes and toys, so much that it was hard to walk without stepping on a toy soldier or accidentally kick a majestic toy crown.

The blonde boy's room was much different than the one across from his. His little seven year old brother, Loki, always kept his room neat and tidy. He had no toy soldiers or crowns. Not because he was denied them, but because he didn't want them. He was far more into his neatly shelved books of all kinds and writing at his intricately carved desk.

Usually, both boys would be asleep at such a late - or early, depending on how you looked at it - hour, but tonight was restless for the younger prince. He laid on his bed, staring up at the high ceilings. Queen Frigga had tucked him in as well, but now the blankets had been kicked down passed his bare feet. He was just too hot and uncomfortable in the room, or maybe it was just his thoughts swirling around in his head.

You see, Loki was very intelligent for his age. Not just in academics, but observation, too. He did not have many friends as no one seemed to want to spend time with the boy who sat in the corner and read when he was supposed to be a warrior prince of Asgard. They didn't like it when he performed the magic he was gifted with, either. He spent far more time with his books, mother, and brother than he did others. He followed Thor around a lot, hoping to get his older brother's attention more often, yet nearly always failed. It seemed he would rather spend more time with his warrior friends like Lady Sif than him.

He huffed to himself, turning from laying on his back to his left side, thinking that would he more comfortable. He closed his bright green eyes, but opened them shortly after when sleep did not consume him and his thoughts continued. The black haired boy curled in on himself and buried his face into the overly fluffy pillows.

Loki knew that his mother loved him, and his brother and father, too. It was just harder to remember that with the last two. Thor always seemed to brush him off no matter how much Loki tried to appeal to him. He offered knight games, wrestling, everything his brother liked, yet he was always turned down in the end. His father was never really around much, off doing king duties or leading a battle regiment, but when he was home he spent time with both him and Loki. He never reay had any one on one time with him, but that was okay with Loki.

Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe that's just what he kept telling himself. Everytime he thought of how he got brushed off to the side, a cavern formed inside of his chest. Inside of his heart. It was like he was only a shadow to Thor and a spare prince to his father sometimes.

It was getting colder in his room, he noticed absentmindedly, but he didn't pull the blankets over him again. The cold was comforting, like there was something else there besides the dark emotions inside of him. He sat up slowly and pressed his back to the gold colored headboard that pressed up against his dark green walls. Drawing his knees up to his chest, he wrapped his tiny arms around his legs and settled his chin onto his knees, looking over his room. He was wide awake and he doubted he would sleep tonight. That happened at least once a week- he was so consumed in thoughts that he couldn't sleep.

He thought about going to his parents' bedroom that was just down the hall, hidden behind a mahogany door. He could curl up in his mother's arms, maybe lay between them and get a hair ruffle or soothingly gruff words from his father if he was lucky enough for him to wake. Father was a deep sleeper and he snored very loudly. He could just faintly hear it through the thick walls if he pressed his ear to them.